The Last Green
by Lady Cougar-Trombone
Summary: In fire, her life ended. She left the ashes, and reemerged elsewhere, only to make a friend that she tried to leave but couldn't. Now he tells the story of how they met, and what happened once the fires in her burned for revenge.


**SPECIAL A/N, READ IT:**

**Disclaimer: I have no claim over the intellectual property of _Ranger's Apprentice_.**

**Trigger warning for death and abuse mentions. Basically, a pretty common theme in my works.**

* * *

**A/N: Longest...chapter...Ever. And it's for a one-shot! Off my slight bragging, I hope you enjoy this story. There might be someone who recognizes elements of this from an old, deleted work of mine I believe I called_ The Ranger's Daughter_. Now, on to the story!**

* * *

"Uncle, can I hear a story?" James asked as he poked the fire with a stick. His uncle turned and regard the thirteen-year-old.

"What sort of story?" the red-headed man asked, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. The young brunette pursed his lips.

"Well, Uncle Edward always mentions he and you had a friend," James said. "I forget what her name was." His uncle fell silent before nodding.

"Yes, I suppose you're old enough. Her name was Tacey Green and...she was unlike any girl I ever knew."

* * *

There was a Ranger Green once, a long time ago. Long before the famed Will Treaty would even begin his training as one. This Ranger was married and had a young daughter named Tacey. A Ranger made many, many enemies, and unfortunately Ranger Green had made a particular enemy with a local bandit that was merely called 'Bow'.

No one knew Bow's true identity, though Ranger Green may have. There was never proof one way or another, but eventually Bow had enough of Ranger Green foiling all of the banditry he was attempting.

One sleepy night during the winter, the sleepy village in which the Greens residing were awoken by a fierce fire. The townspeople tried to quell the blaze, but the home was consumed. However, one brave man broke in and retrieved the girl.

It took a year for the girl to recover, though she was not a lively young girl. She kept to herself and stopped speaking. Many of the people knew it was hard; she was only five and did not understand her parents were gone forever and she was trying to understand. It weighed heavily on the girl's mind as she tried to understand what had happened and where her parents had gone.

She was also scarred physically. She had been saved from the worst of the blaze, though she would forever bear scars all over her body from the flames licking at her.

Tacey was eight when she went to visit her family's burned property for the last time. The village never saw her again. This was when she came to another village far to the west, and it is amazing she made it there at all.

* * *

"Uncle Ovid," James interrupted with a thoughtful look. Ovid smiled at him as he waited for the question. "Did you ever meet the Bear Warriors?" Ovid chuckled.

"Actually, that is where Tacey and I meeting comes in. You could say we met those famed warriors."

* * *

The O'Neills had lived in the hamlet of Eagle Vale for decades. There were five, the eldest three were girls while the two youngest were males. Ovid and Edward.

Ovid was a boy of nine when he met the strange forest girl. She never spoke a word to him, but he visited her and eventually coaxed her into entering the village after a month. She had hid with a bow she couldn't use, a knife that looked too heavy and hide underneath a large cloak that to Ovid made her invisible. The O'Neills welcomed her, though Tacey slept in the barn and refused to enter the home without someone with her. A strange man on a small horse entered not long later and took Tacey away. He said he wished to help her, and the O'Neills bade Tacey goodbye.

Ovid would receive letters occasionally, and he wrote back. He would become the best reader and writer of the family through these correspondences. They never truly discussed important thing. Tacey revealed the man's name to be Crowley, and that he was what the kingdom called a Ranger and was an old friend of her father's. She never discussed anything beyond that in her letters. It was years later, on the eve of Ovid's thirteenth birthday, that Tacey returned.

Edward, who was only eight, had wandered into the forest looking for berries. It was getting dark, and Ovid went out to find his brother. Edward was cowering not far from the village limits, and Ovid stumbled a bear within the berry bushes. The bear went on the charge and Ovid attempted to gain the upper-hand. He used a stick as a sword, but the bear patted it, and him, aside. When the bear reared for the kill, an arrow lodged itself into its back. The bear turned and Ovid spotted something moving in the trees.

"Edward! Run!" he called to his brother, forcing the young boy to flee. Arrows continued to ran down on the bear, and whoever it was was leaping through the tree in an attempt to avoid the bears claws. The helper threw down a knife beyond the bear and Ovid, bleeding, retrieved it. In his foolhardiness, while the bear clawed up a tree, Ovid leaped upon its back. Many of the arrows broke and dug in further into the bear's flesh. The bear roared, but its attention was divided with the arrows landing in its legs and face and the knife now driving into its neck.

Eventually, the village men came with swords and spears, only to find Ovid and the lost Tacey Green standing over it. Ovid swept his friend into a hug and the village celebrated the death of the bear and hailed the youngsters as 'The Bear Warriors'.

* * *

James looked at his uncle in awe and Ovid smiled at him. Ovid added more sticks to the flames and glanced at the forest around them.

"_You _were one of the bear warriors?" James asked. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me?"

"Because you never asked," Ovid laughed and his nephew frowned at him.

"So where is Tacey now?" James asked, once he stopped pouting and regained a thoughtful look. Ovid's laughter had died down and now he bore a sad smile.

"Hmm...You need to understand what came first."

* * *

The day after the great bear slaying, celebrations were doubled. Ovid was going to receive his first sword as a way to enter manhood, and the people were going to throw a feast for the Bear Warriors. Tacey was reluctant to join in the cheery mood.

"Tacey, at least try," Ovid told her when he noticed her glum mood before his family left for the forge. There, Ovid found his ideal sword, though he wished Tacey had come. She had avoided the forge as a child, and he understood she had a dislike of it but didn't know why.

As noon passed and Ovid still saw no sign of Tacey he went searching for her. He was weak and it was hard to walk with the bandages, but he eventually found her in a tree near the blacksmith.

"Tacey, are you all right?" he asked. He climbed into the tree and sat beside the younger girl. She was watching the smoke rising from the building. Tacey did not look at him and Ovid touched her shoulder. His friend immediately flinched and turned quickly to him.

"Tacey..." Ovid was concerned and Tacey grabbed his hand. Her face was calm, though her eyes looked wild. She began mouthing words to herself, almost as if she were trying to force them into sound.

"You're okay...do not like the smoke? The...fire?" Tacey ceased the mouthing and bowed her head. Ovid felt a surreptitious nod against his arm as Tacey leaned into him. Ovid wrapped his arm around her and fell silent. He now knew she was afraid, though he did not understand why. The understanding would come later, when Tacey had a better medium to tell him. Ovid knew comfort was what she needed now, not questions.

* * *

"So...when _did_ she tell you?" James asked as Ovid took a moment to reflect. He looked into the firelight.

"On my first vigil, nearly two years later. That night was...the beginning of many things. For me, understanding and for her...Well."

* * *

The night watch was long and cold that spring night. Ovid looked over the leaping flames into the forest beyond, his sword resting beside him. Tacey was much smaller than Ovid, and hid further from the camp. The flames occasionally glinted off her bow, though Ovid could otherwise not see her.

"Tacey, was your father a Ranger?" Ovid asked into the nothingness. He knew Tacey had heard him, and soon the girl was beside him with her cowl down. He saw her nod.

"And are you one?" Tacey turned to him and gave a half-smile, though shook her head. "Complicated then?" This brought a full smile to her face and see shrugged. She sat beside him and glanced into the flames before gesturing that Ovid should look as well. Ovid glanced at the flames and Tacey reached out. Her bare hand turned an orange hue in the light, though the scars were darker than the unblemished flesh.

"Did...Were you in a fire as a child?" Ovid asked, turning to her. Tacey wouldn't look at him and lowered her head. "Is...is that why you were alone?" Tacey pulled her cowl up and curled within herself. Ovid sat in silence, unsure what to do. He remembered how his mother would comfort them after a nightmare and decided to try it with Tacey. He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her flinch, and he began to run his hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry, but you have other people who care about you. You can stay here." Ovid soon felt his shirt becoming wet and continued what he was doing, whispering nonsense to the girl who was allowing herself to grieve.

* * *

Ovid fell silent and touched the sword at his side. It was the same as he had received all of those years ago. James was quiet as well, glancing at his uncle and thinking on things.

"Uncle," he finally said and Ovid was brought out of his reverie. "How did you find out find all of that stuff about her childhood?" Ovid gave a sad smile as he turned towards James. The brown curls obscured the boys face, a trademark of the O'Neills that had skipped Ovid.

"She wrote me a letter, and then disappeared for an entire year. She told me everything, even what she was going to do."

"And what did she do?"

"She was going to hunt down her parents' murderer."

* * *

Ovid searched for Tacey for an entire year, but found no trace other than rumors of someone called 'Shadow'. He was sure it was Tacey, but no one had ever met Shadow. All anyone in Martinsyde Fief knew was that many bandits were being killed with arrows. Oftentimes it was a single arrow to the head. There were whispers that it may simply be the Ranger of the fief, though only the peasants and lower class believed this may be true.

Ovid did not share his thoughts that it may be Tacey. Rangers were considered mystical, and while he thought they had strange abilities he knew Tacey—and Tacey was no sorcerer.

It would be on a cool night in the autumn. Ovid and Edward were traveling through the forest to make it home before the storm arrived. It was in the distance, and they did not wished to be trapped when it inevitably arrived.

"Ovid," Edward brushed his brown curls from his face. He held a package with parchment, which had cost a fortune. "I appreciate the gift." Ovid grinned and ruffled his brother's hair.

"It was your birthday yesterday, and I've been saving since last year. It is no trouble, and this way you can make the best use of your charcoal." Edward's face lit up at the mention and he bounded farther up the path. Ovid heard a rustling off the side of the path and immediately drew his sword.

"Who goes there?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes as he tried to locate the source of the noise. He saw the bushes move and he saw an indiscernible shape. "Are you Shadow?" An arm emerged from the blurred shape and pulled down the cowl. Underneath was a grinning Tacey. Her hair was darker than Ovid remembered; it once had traces of blonde but now all those traces seemed to have vanished.

"Tacey!" Ovid exclaimed and he heard Edward's shout from further up ahead. Ovid sheathed his as Tacey approached. Tacey put a finger to her lips and nodded behind her. Ovid frowned at her, but turned as Edward came back.

"Ovid, what's—Tacey? You're back!" Tacey gave him a soft grin, then looked back at Ovid. Overhead, there was a faint rumble of thunder.

"Edward, can you make it back to the village?" Ovid asked. Edward frowned before nodding.

"I can, I saw the firelight before I heard you speaking." Edward looked between them, his gaze lingering on Tacey, before he turned and bounded off again. Ovid glanced at Tacey, but she had turned and was entering the forest. Ovid followed her.

They soon came upon an abandoned camp and Ovid saw that it had been done so in a hurry. Arrows littered the camp, and as he inspected it there were specks of blood around the ashy remains of the campfire.

"I take it this is your doing." Ovid crouched down to inspect a crate near a tent and frowned. He didn't recognize the substance inside as he shifted through it. It had a strong, though not unpleasant, smell to it. Tacey placed her bow on top of the crate and Ovid looked at her in confusion. She gestured between it and him.

"Bow and...me?" Tacey shook her head. "Person." A faint smile, though no confirmation. "Man?" Tacey nodded this time. Ovid pursed his lips in confusion and looked down at the bow and crate.

"This was a bandits camp...You're telling me 'Bow' and 'Man' and...something seems familiar but..." Tacey frowned in frustration and before Ovid could react grabbed his face. Ovid tried to speak but saw Tacey's lips moving.

"Bow is the man who killed my family...He is a bandit...He is in the fief..." Tacey was mouthing every word and hastily released him once understanding dawned in Ovid's eyes. Her cheeks were tinted pink and Ovid rubbed his own face where she had gripped him. He felt a flush on his neck and thanked that it was rather dark aside from the moonlight.

"I wish you could speak," Ovid said without thinking. He felt himself go red in the face and saw Tacey glance at him before pulling up her cowl. "Tacey, I'm sorry." She disappeared from his line of vision and Ovid shook his head at his stupidity. He made his way back to the path and home, without giving anyone an explanation until morning.

It was in the morning that Tacey made her reappearance. Edward was sitting near the entrance of the home, charcoal all over his hands as he drew something upon a page. There were crumbled bits of parchments scattered about that showed his previous attempts.

Ovid was sharpening his sword while leaning against a tree. _I am so stupid...I made Tacey feel stupid...How could I have done that?_ Ovid felt a presence sit beside him.

"Rebecca, I'm not interested in helping you win Carson's affections," Ovid said. He glanced beside him when the person he assumed to be his did not respond. H gasped. "Tacey! You're here!" Ovid dropped his whetstone and put his sword to the sword to the side.

Tacey regarded him casually, and seemed to be thinking of something. Ovid opened his mouth to apologize, but Tacey cut him off by covering his mouth with her hand.

"I should be able to," Tacey mouthed slowly. "But I don't know why I can't." She released him and leaned back, turning her face away from Ovid.

"So you're capable of speech?" Ovid asked, then continued when he saw Tacey nod. "But something is preventing you from speaking." There was a pause, but Tacey nodded again. "Still, I shouldn't have said what I said. It was wrong." Tacey touched his arm briefly before getting up and walking off. Ovid watched her go, her figure going in and out because of the cloak.

"Do you like her?" Edward called out. Ovid jumped and turned towards his brother.

"I...what?" Ovid stammered, face turning very red. Edward's blue eyes lit up and he grinned.

"You do!" Ovid groaned as Edward abandoned his work and trotted over to pester him.

* * *

"Did you really like her uncle?" James asked. Ovid straightened his back, and heard it pop.

"Yes, I did like her as you say. Nothing ever came of those feelings though."

"Why?" James asked with a frown. "Is it because of Aunt Rachel?" Ovid smiled and turned to his nephew.

"No...I met Rachel many years later. The reason nothing came of my affections for Tacey is because...Well, it didn't work out. Now, get some some rest." James frowned, but nodded and lay down by the fire. Ovid waited until he heard his nephew's breathing begin to even out.

"I wonder if it would have worked out," Ovid said to himself. "Had she not died." A hazy day flashed into his mind's eyes, he felt Tacey so close to him as if it were now and he remembered what he did not wish to.

* * *

Ovid crouched down and regarded the men below them. Tacey and him had been tracking the bandits for a year, and had left Eagle Vale long behind them. His family hadn't understood why he wanted to leave, though Edward promised to show Ovid and Tacey something special when they returned.

Ovid was seriously doubting their chances of return as he looked down at the sizable camp. Tacey tapped his shoulder and brought him out of his doubts.

"You're going to the other side?" Ovid asked quietly. Tacey nodded and disappeared. He slowly drew out his sword and soon one of the bandits collapsed and there were shouts all around. The men hurried to gather their weapons and Ovid rushed in, cutting down three men before they turned on him. He saw that two other men had gone down from arrows in the neck. His attention was diverted as one of the bandits locked swords with him.

Time began to pass in a blur and soon Ovid was covered in blood. The activity in the camp had lessened and he felt his adrenaline begin to fade as he cut down a final man.

"You bitch!" Someone yelled and Ovid turned. There were bandits congregated at the edge of the woods, and one was firing arrows into it. Ovid ran as fast as he could and tackled the archer. He felt his sword slip from his grasp. The two tumbled and Ovid heard shouts from the other men. He felt his head spinning but punched the man across the jaw. The man went limp and Ovid shoved him off. There was a broken recurve bow and a knife in a dead man's chest.

And then there was a man holding Tacey as he shoved a sword through her chest.

"You bastard!" Ovid shouted and the man turned. Tacey slid off the sword's edge and collapsed in a bloody heap.

"Are you her pet? No Ranger or their pet crosses me and live." The man rushed Ovid and Ovid ducked down and grabbed a sword that was not his. The two clashed and soon the man had the upper-hand.

"Bow always wins," the man grinned. He tripped Ovid and put his sword at the boy's throat. "No mer—" Bow slid as Ovid kicked him in the groin. He felt the sword scratch his throat, but it was merely a graze.

"Not. This. Time," Ovid panted and drove his sword into the man's head before he could rise. Bow went down and Ovid looked around. All he saw was death and destruction, and wondered if it had been worth it when he saw Tacey had not moved.

"Tacey!" he shouted, going to his side. Blood was bubbling from her mouth, but she was still barely breathing. He took her in his arms and felt hot tears begin to run down his face. "There's nothing I can do..." Tacey gave a weak smile and grabbed at his torn shirt. Ovid leaned down in confusion and Tacey touched his face.

"I...What...?" Ovid leaned closer, sure she was trying to tell him something. The light was beginning to go from her eyes, but he was surprised when she gripped his face and met her lips to his. Ovid tasted blood and...her. Then nothing as she slipped down and became still.

Tacey Green was no more.

* * *

Ovid wiped the tears from his face and reached into his satchel behind him. Parchment crinkled as he took out a piece and opened. It was smudged, worn and wrinkled.

Edward's first masterpiece in charcoal—and it was Tacey as she had exited the woods before she took Ovid to the small bandit camp.

"I loved you," Ovid muttered before folding it back. "But now it's time to let you go." He slipped the paper back into the satchel and intended to put it away once he and James were home. Tacey was his friend and first love, but that life was behind him. Crowley had even told him so years ago, once word of Tacey's death had reached the Ranger.

_Do not forget the past—but do not forget what is now_


End file.
